


Fall To Pieces

by GoldenDaydreams



Series: Moving Forward [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Being an Asshole is Like Eighty Percent of This Guys Personality, Case Fic, Father-Son Relationship, Feelings, Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Gen, Kidnapping, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), RK900 Wakes Up, Temporary Character Death, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 04:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15622422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenDaydreams/pseuds/GoldenDaydreams
Summary: Androids are being taken off the streets, murdered, and their biocomponents harvested before being dumped in random locations.Hank and Connor are on the case, but it takes a terrible turn when Connor is the next android to disappear.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is like 70% a prelude to a Gavin/900 fic I want to write :P I've fallen hard into that trash. <3

Months after the first of the humans started trickling back into Detroit, over half of Detroit homeowners were back in the city. The housing flux was part of the problem, with androids needing a place to reside. Some, like Connor, up kept the house they’d lived in, and were welcomed into the family when the humans returned home. Others wanted nothing to do with their former masters and there were entire new neighbourhoods that had been built in the past year, condos being a primary solution.  
  
Once again humans and androids were sharing the city, and with it came a wave of violence. Luckily, the DPD was back on the case.  
  
Snow had been falling for the past hour and left a light dusting over everything. Big fat flakes clung to the shoulders of Hank and Connor as they approached the crime scene they’d been given.  
  
“Anderson. Eight-hundred,” Ben Collins greeted, he, along with some others at the precinct had started to use Connor’s model number as a surname. Hank had thought Connor might be offended, but Connor was quite pleased to have been given a nickname that wasn’t Plastic Asshole, or Tin Can. Hank also noted, that those using it treated Connor like a cop, and so he let it slide. If they weren’t disrespectful about it, and Connor had no issue, then why should he?  
  
“What do we got?” Hank asked. He still took lead on scene. Connor officially had been given the title of Detective, and Hank still outranked him.  
  
“A strange one,” Ben said with a sigh, he motioned them to follow and started walking through the park. “The android that was murdered was stripped of parts.”  
  
“Cyberlife belongs to the androids now,” Connor said, looking over the scene. “We can have new parts ordered, and manufactured. There shouldn’t be a black market on android biocomponents.”  
  
Ben shrugged and led them around a cluster of bushes that was dusted with snow. He crouched to lift a sheet protecting the body from the weather. Connor crouched down, he stared at the exposed chest, and Hank figured he was scanning the chassis. “There is no thirium on the ground, the android was killed elsewhere.”  
  
“Can you reactivate him?” Hank asked, rubbing his cold hands together.  
  
“No,” Connor replied. Hank worried about the flat tone of Connor’s voice.  “Complete system failure. Missing five biocomponents, two of which are essential for even a brief reactivation.  There is also a critical loss of thirium.” The android stood, and adjusted his tie, more of a compulsive mannerism than an actual need.  
  
They spent another hour searching the crime scene with other officers, but had little to show for it. Size ten men’s shoes. Nothing else. No hair, no fibers, no fingerprints, no weapon, or trail to follow.  
  
Connor remained quiet in the car on the way back to the precinct, arms crossed while he stared out the window.  
  
Hank’s grip on the wheel was a little tighter than usual when he pulled into the parking lot. “You okay, Connor.”  
  
“I’m fine,” Connor replied, but sounded distracted. He left the car without another word.  
  
::  
  
Four more androids were found in similar states, chassis open, biocomponents missing. The DPD had a meeting about it, everyone in the large room, tossing around ideas. There were only three androids in the precinct, Connor included, and Hank thought it was good for them to see that the majority of their human counterparts were invested in solving the case.  
  
Connor’s LED went yellow. “Thirium,” he said, cutting off Fowler.  
  
Everyone turned to look at him. Fowler was infamous for getting furious about being cut off. The screen next to Fowler turned to static and white noise that distracted everyone, then statistics started popping up, case files, pictures of victims and the lists of their missing biocomponents.  
  
“It’s not the biocomponents,” Connor said, looking at Hank, but pointing at the screen. “Or if they’re involved somehow, it’s not the primary motive.”  
  
Hank realized that Connor had hijacked the screen, and was trying to show his fellow officers what he’d discovered. “And what is?”  
  
Information was dismissed, only the images of the deceased remained, and new information came up. Thirium levels in the deceased. “Every time there is less thirium on scene,” Connor said. “In the last murder, only eight percent of thirium was left, most of it trapped in the remaining biocomponents.” He shot up. “The components which were taken are the ones which hold the most amount of thirium!”  
  
“Thirium pumps, and regulators,” Leah said, one of the androids who’d joined the DPD after the peace talks. She’d been a caretaker model, but did good investigative work regardless. She was especially efficient when they needed to get children to talk. “They hold the most.”  
  
“Pressure sensor arrays, proprioceptive sensors, and actuators are the others taken,” Connor continued.  
  
“What do they do?” Chris asked from two desks behind.  
  
“Pressure sensors allow us to understand everything from the air pressure in a room, to the amount of force we put on something, or take from something. Proprioceptive sensors are comparable to your inner ear, or a gyroscope, they maintain our balance, they’re combined with accelerometers, and tilt sensors. Actuators are a series of motor components which perform like our joints. The one from the hip, which is the largest, is always missing from the chassis.”  
  
“Knee actuators are also quite large,” Devon, the other android, one who had worked for the DPD before said. “Why wouldn’t they take those?”  
  
“They are more difficult to get to,” Leah said. “They’re prone to bursting when disassembling the leg. Thirium usually floods back to it when a link to the rest of the body is established.”  
  
“But why steal thirium?” Gavin asked. Hank didn’t trust Gavin, the detective had stopped the snide comments, but hadn’t warmed to androids in the least, likely only staying quiet because his job depended on it. “Androids have control of Cyberlife, if they require thirium, it’s there.”  
  
Of the three androids, only Connor still had an LED, and it spun yellow. “I don’t know,” he admitted.  
  
Gavin huffed out a breath, and went back to flipping through his paperwork.  
  
Without further leads, they were all dismissed.  
  
:::  
  
When Hank emerged from the shower, he saw a yellow sticky note on his bedroom door.  
  
_Took Sumo for a walk. Dinner is on the table._  
  
A pink sticky note was right under it.  
  
_EAT YOUR SALAD._  
  
“Prick,” Hank muttered without heat, he quickly dried off and dressed in some comfy sweatpants and a t-shirt, before walking barefoot to the kitchen where a steak and salad were waiting. At least the android hadn’t tried to ween him off red meat. He was halfway through the steak when his phone pinged with a message.  
  
He pulled it from the pocket of his sweatpants, thumbed in his password (1111) and shoveled a mouthful of salad into his mouth while he tapped on the message icon.  
  
**CONNOR: SENT 17:03**  
 **911**  
  
His blood ran cold, the fork dropped from his fingertips, and a curse fell from his lips. He tried calling, and received nothing. The only reason that would happen is if Connor had been badly damaged. He called it in while shoving his bare feet into sneakers, and grabbed his jacket from the peg on his way out the door. Fishing the keys from the jacket pocket he got into the car, and started to drive.  
  
Connor took Sumo on a walk every night, same path. He drove it until he spotted Sumo, the dog laying on the sidewalk, red leash bright in the snow. Fear gripped his heart and he jammed the old car into park and jumped out of the car. Sumo lifted his head on his approach, and Hank found himself able to take a breath. “Sumo!”  
  
The dog weakly wagged his tail, but whined sniffing at the blue drops on the ground. Hank checked the dog over, but found no injury.  
  
A car pulled up, unmarked, a detective’s car. Gavin stepped out, an unlit cigarette between his fingers. He took one quick look down either side of the street. “This is good.”  
  
“Ex-fucking-scuse me,” Hank stood, saw red.  
  
“First time we’ve known where one of the plastic pricks have been taken from,” Gavin said, he brought the cigarette to his lips, and pointed across the street. “Security camera at the convenience store’s ATM.” The cigarette bounced with the effort to keep it between his lips while speaking. He flipped open his silver lighter, lit the cigarette, before flicking it shut with a quick wrist motion. He took a deep drag, eyeing the dog warily.  
  
“First time you’ve been helpful toward these ‘plastic pricks,’” Hank replied with a daring edge.  
  
“I need to keep my job,” Gavin supplied, sounding bitter. “I know who’s holding the card right now,” he said looking down at the blue blood. “I need some brownie points.” With that he gave a careless glance at the road before crossing it.  
  
:::  
  
While Gavin worked on getting the bank’s cooperation for the ATM footage, which they were demanding a warrant for, Hank knew they were losing time to save Connor. If he still can be saved. The thought corrupted his ability to think straight.  
  
“Lieutenant.”  
  
His head snapped up, and Hank realized the precinct had gone quiet and still. There, at the side of his desk, where Connor usually stood, was Markus. He’d called him in after he realized the bank wasn’t going to cooperate. The leader wore a formal suit with a bowtie. He looked around, then down at himself. “I had a few meetings this morning, I didn’t have time to change,” he said as though that was why people were staring. “Do you have any more information on Connor’s case?”  
  
Hank frowned. “We’re still trying to get a warrant for the ATM machine across from where Connor was abducted. There were small amounts of thirium.”  
  
“We should return to the scene,” Markus suggested rather forcefully, already turning heel to leave. “Perhaps I can see something you can’t.”  
  
Hank found himself jumping out of his seat and following Markus out into the parking lot. “Why do I get the feeling you know something you’re not telling me?”  
  
“I don’t know anything yet,” Markus said, rounding the hood of Hank’s car. “But if you think I’m waiting for a warrant for that footage you’re not as smart as Connor is always saying you are.”  
  
“Isn’t hacking illegal?” Hank asked, with a raised eyebrow, knowing damn well it was against the agreement signed between android and human leaders.  
  
“Do you want Connor back alive, or not?” Markus challenged.  
  
“Get in,” Hank demanded.  
  
::  
  
“Hard to believe that you and Connor get on now,” Hank said as they approached the convenience store. “I know he ultimately deviated-“  
  
“We were all slaves to our programing at one time,” Markus said in that calm, cool way he had of speaking. “When it came down to it, Connor broke his code, he had been breaking his for months.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Hank asked, stopped at a red light and furious about it. Time was everything.  
  
“He was designed for deviancy, best way to find a deviant is to be a deviant,” Markus explained.  
  
Hank raised a brow. “Designed for deviancy?”  
  
“Perhaps Connor didn’t want me to speak of this.”  
  
“Keep talking,” Hank said gruffly, putting his foot down as the light turned green.  
  
“Being designed with more freewill, but also with objectives, Cyberlife kept him on target, but allowed him to make decisions. They had to for him to be a proper investigator, however, I think Cyberlife decided to send him in to work with you due to your anti-android sentiments.”  
  
“We worked it out,” Hank muttered.  
  
“Indeed. But they figured Connor wouldn’t be able to bond with you in any meaningful way. They were wrong. Connor’s own personality matrix along with his own way of thinking, he started to prioritize you over the mission. He would choose things that would keep you safe, or happy, even if it risked getting results. He didn’t want to disappoint you.”  
  
Hank got the distinct impression than Connor and Markus had spent a lot of time bonding while Hank had been gone. “Like when I told him not to shoot Chloe.”  
  
“Perhaps he had it in him to make that decision on his own, but I have no doubt your moral compass was also something he relied on while struggling. You treated him like his life was worth something, like he wasn’t just an expendable android that could be replaced in a matter of hours.” Markus sighed. “And being that he already had more freedom than most androids was why Amanda was integrated with his programing, it’s the entire purpose of his mind palace. She could keep an eye on him, the investigation, and was a Trojan Virus set up to take control.”  
  
“But they didn’t.”  
  
“They did, but they were still using Kamski’s codes as a base for all androids, which means his emergency exit program was still installed. When Connor used it,” Markus shrugged, something passing on his face, “he regained control of all programs.”  
  
They arrived, and Hank parked on the side of the road. “This ATM.”  
  
Markus walked up, skin retracting from his hand before he placed it on the screen. Code flashed on the screen, none of it could be understood by Hank. Five minutes passed, and Markus was still standing perfectly still. “Anything?” he asked impatiently.  
  
“Searching,” Markus said.  
  
Hank paced a little, trying to keep warm, rubbing his hands together.  
  
“Found it.” Markus’s lips were pressed in a thin line. He pulled his hand back and the skin overlay returned. “Sending footage to your email.”  
  
Hank pulled out his phone and by the time he punched in his password there was a notification of a new email from MARKUS MANFRED. He didn’t waste time opening it, he didn’t have time to brace himself either. He saw Connor pause patiently as Sumo stopped (likely for the eleventh time) to barely pee on a parking meter. When the dog started to trot forward again, Connor fell into step. A car came into view, and cut into parking on the opposite side of the road, by the sidewalk Connor walked on.  
  
A bold swirl of yellow on Connor’s LED that spun rapidly as three men jumped out of the vehicle. Connor let go of the leash to get his hands free for combat, and but Sumo growled and barked. LED spun red when Connor glanced at the dog and then Markus tapped the phone pausing it. “You won’t hear it, the audio is garbage, but Connor made a sound at a frequency the dog would hear to scare him back.”  
  
“Damn it, Connor.” Hank closed his eyes for a second. Connor had protected the dog, ensured he stayed back. He tapped the play button.  
  
Sure enough, Sumo backed off with his tail between his legs. The three men attacked, and Connor’s LED turned yellow. Probably sending the distress text. The fight seemed to go Connor’s way for a few seconds but one of them managed to get him with a stun-stick and a second man hits Connor in the back of a head with a baton hard enough that Hank can hear the crack even with the shit audio quality.  
  
“Motherfuckers,” he growled as he’s forced to watch them drag Connor’s limp, and clearly heavy body into the vehicle, then they’re gone. Nothing but a lost looking dog sniffing at the drops of thirium lost with the hit to the head. “Motherfuckers,” he repeated just as venomous as the first time.  
  
“Unlike Connor, I don’t have access to criminal records. While I could hack them, it would be… unwise, I could accidentally trip off sensors. What I’ve done is illegal enough.”  
  
“I can run these at the station.”  
  
“You might get in trouble, the footage was acquired through illegal means.”  
  
“You think I give a shit?” Hank asked, hurrying back to the car.  
  
“I see why Connor likes you, Lieutenant,” Markus said, slipping back into the passenger seat.  
  
::  
  
Back at the station, Hank quickly got to work. Markus was off speaking with both Leah, and Devon, likely checking in on the state of things in the DPD from an android’s perspective. Connor did have a tendency to protect his human counterparts.    
  
While the men wore hoods, one of them had fallen off, and one had a ball cap knocked off by a punch that Connor had thrown. His partner hadn’t gone down without a fight. Hank kept eyes on the largest of the men, looking for a good frame. Finding it, he scanned it through all data bases. The results came up and he cursed under his breath. SQ800 model- Military. Disbanded November 9th 2038. It had to have deviated previously, or was still being commanded by someone else.  
  
A hand with an envelope slammed down on his desk. “The warrant,” Gavin said looking mildly pissed off. “Not like you apparently needed it.”  
  
“Good to have my ass covered,” Hank said tossing it into a pile with the rest of his paperwork.  
  
Gavin leaned down and looked at the screen over Hank’s shoulder. “I thought all the SQ models were recycled.”  
  
“Apparently not all of them.”  
  
“Fuck.”  
  
Hank played through a bit more and was able to get a good frame of one of the other attackers. Scanning his face came through with results. James Patrick, 43, unemployed. A note in his file saying he’d skipped a meeting with his parole officer, and his house was empty.  
  
“I know that guy,” Gavin said. “Arrested him a few times for stolen cars, and selling stolen parts. He used to run a chop shop over on Kenneth till we busted it two years ago, must have just gotten out of prison.”  
  
“Any idea where he might go?”  
  
“He has a younger brother who owns a garage, he’s always been clean though.”  
  
“If James is chopping up androids the garage might be our best bet,” Hank said standing. “You coming or what?”  
  
“Yeah.” Gavin let out a sigh, as if it pained him to say so.  
  
“Markus!” Hank waved the leader over, not waiting for him on his way to the parking lot. He’d catch up.  
  
::  
  
Hank looked at the garage across the road. All the bays were shut, the lights off, and the closed sign in the window. “Markus, you should stay here.”  
  
“No-“  
  
“For your safety-“  
  
“No,” Markus slid from the middle of the back seat and opened the door. “I led a revolution, Hank. I’ll be fine. Besides, if Connor is damaged, you’re going to need my help.”  
  
“Fuck, fine, but stay behind me, technically speaking, you're a civillian,” Hank said. “I’ll take the front.”  
  
“Copy that,” Gavin said, reaching for the gun tucked into his holster as they crossed the street.  
  
As much as Hank just wanted to kick the front door open, he waited a full minute to give Gavin time to get into position at the back. Last thing he wanted was for these sons a bitches to get away with what they’d done. He kicked the old door, and the wood splintered around the cheap lock. He went in, clearing the office sections of the garage, pointing his gun down when he came across Gavin, and they worked together, moving down the long hallway, clearing the offices and storage closets.  
  
As they reached a metal door, Hank took to one side with Markus behind him, Gavin stood ready on the other side of the door, hand on the knob. While they didn't get along,  they knew when to put their own personal bullshit aside to work a case. Hank nodded, and Gavin opened the door, pushing it in and Hank went in first, gun already up and ready as he stepped into the large work bays. Gavin came up on his left hand side, and Markus stayed a little behind as ordered.  
  
Hank tried to ignore the obvious gore in favour of keeping his eyes out for suspects, but fuck. Hung on hooks, likely meant for things like engines, was Connor, limbs lose, LED blank. He wasn’t the only one. There were half a dozen androids on hooks, all in similar states of disrepair. There were parts on the ground, biocomponents emptied of blue blood.  
  
“Oh, Connor,” Markus whispered softly, leaving the protection of the officers, and approaching his friend.  
  
Gavin did as Hank should have, and walked around the area, gun at the ready, in case a suspect was still around.  
  
“Can you fix him?” Hank asked Markus, unable to peel his eyes off of Connor, heart stuck in his throat. Connor’s shirt was missing, chest plate on the floor, inner workings didn’t look quite right. Thirium still wet and visible around his chest, in his hair, and under his nose.  
  
 “No.”  
  
And that one word crushed Hank, he cursed, wiped tears from his eyes, tried to work up to anger. He needed a moment, a moment to pull his fractured heart back together. He couldn’t. He couldn’t when Cole died, and he knew he sure as hell wouldn’t be able to do it after Connor either.  
  
“All clear,” Gavin said, tucking his gun into his holster. He looked at Connor with an indifferent, critical eye. “This isn’t the same as the others,” Gavin said, pointing over Markus’s shoulder at one of Connor’s biocomponents. “The… this thing.”  
  
“Proprioceptive sensors,” Markus said, looking and sounding flat, like the life had been sucked out of him.  
  
“Yeah, that was missing in the others.”  
  
“Could be that the RK800 model is a prototype,” Markus looked around. “Some of his biocomponents are more advanced. Could be they weren’t sure how to remove it.”  
  
“Let’s get him down,” Hank said, struggling to keep his voice even.  
  
“No,” Markus said, opening a door along the wall, there were various tools, but also various empty biocomponents. “Leave him. I’m going to attempt to reactivate him.”  
  
“Thought he couldn’t be fixed,” Hank said, sounding bitter.  
  
“He can’t,” Markus said, a little rough. “But I might be able to get him online for a few minutes.”  
  
“Might be able to give us a view on the third guy,” Gavin said.  
  
“Not the plan,” Markus said taking a part out, turning it over in his hand, then motioning for Gavin to come closer. “Hold this.”  
  
“Do I look like your bitch?”  
  
Markus turned his glare at the detective. “Considering how you’ve treated Connor in the past, you should be aware that it is his mercy that has you still working with the DPD, not mine. So get over here, and hold the damn thirium regulator.”  
  
Gavin sneered but grabbed the regulator.  
  
Hank offered his hands, and a thirium pump was placed in his hands. An android heart was in his hands, and it more than a little freaked him out. “So what is the plan.”  
  
“Connor is unique in the sense that he can back up everything to a Cyberlife server. None of the rest of us can. However, he hasn’t since the uprising, too afraid of potentially leaving himself up to the Amanda program.”  
  
Hank tried not to feel hopeful, but he was holding onto Markus’s words like a lifeline. “You want him to back up, and then you can reupload him to a new body?”  
  
Markus nodded. “Cyberlife still has multiple RK800 models.”  
  
“And you didn’t wake them up?” Hank asked curiously.  
  
“There is nothing to wake up," Markus replied. "They’re just hulls with no coding until Connor is uploaded.”  
  
They carried all the parts over to the work station, setting them down on a tool box that came up to Hank’s middle. “Search the place for thirium,” Markus commanded, stripping off his suit jacket. “I’ll get to work putting him back together.”  
  
With their mission directives, Markus rolled up his sleeves, started to place components, and fix damaged wiring and thirium lines with electrical tape, Gavin searched the offices, and Hank searched the garage.  
  
Hank searched tool boxes, shelves, boxes of ordered parts just in case. Nothing. No thirium.  
  
“Damn it,” he returned to Markus empty handed, coming from behind Connor, he could see the actual dent the SQ800 had left in the back of Connor’s skull. Even if Markus could get Connor up and running, would he even be able to wake up, much less send information?  
  
Gavin poked his head into the garage bays. “Anderson! Found something.”  
  
The urgency in the detective’s voice had Hank running, Gavin led him into one of the offices where there were three large boxes, opened, and holding six large jugs of thirium each. He let out a breath, crouching down to inspect the jugs. “There’s more than enough to get Connor to run.”  
  
“Still haven’t found anything about why they would want all this thirium,” Gavin said making a vague gesture to the messy desk. Their personal feelings aside, Hank knew Gavin was a good detective.  “I’ll keep at it. More use here, than in there.”  
  
Hank grunted as he lifted the heavy box, and left Gavin to the investigative work.  
  
Markus’s hands were coated in thirium when Hank returned. “I got what we need,” he set the box down.  
  
“I’m nearly done with repairs. I think.” Markus had a little frown on his face, his brow drawn in concentration. “This is not my function, and despite both of us being RK models, his components aren’t quite in the same spot or size as mine, and I’m using spare parts, none of these have his serial number, but I’m pretty sure it’ll work for the short-term.”  
  
“How are we going to get him to take the thirium?” Hank asked, not really knowing how they did it in the first place.  
  
Markus just raised a brow. “Well, we’re going to dump it in his mouth, how else would we do it?”  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Markus gave a twist to some valve, then stepped back. His fingers had residual thirium, and he wiped it uncaring on his trousers. Androids tended to seize when they deactivated so Markus had to use force to tip Connor’s head back, it made a grinding sound.  
  
“Careful!” Hank snapped, picking up one of the bottles, and taking off the cap.  
  
“It’s the lack of thirium, look just dump it in,” Markus said, reaching for another bottle. “We need to do this fast, we don’t want him to have to process a bunch of air in his thirium lines, we don’t have time for that when he reactivates. He needs at least five and three quarters of these bottles. We’ll do six and I’ll activate him.”  
  
“Okay.” It felt weird to just be dumping thirium down Connor’s throat. He had to remind himself that Connor didn’t need air, didn’t need to swallow, he wasn’t drowning the android in blue blood, but was helping him.  
  
The moment his nearly ran empty, Markus started pouring a second bottle. They worked in tandem until all six bottles were empty. At that point, Markus’s hand with his skin pulled back touched Connor’s neck. Connor’s skin overlay deactivated from his jaw to his collarbone. Markus prodded at the back of Connor’s neck where it met his skull. A whirling sound started up, and the circular thirium regular glowed a lazy red but a moment later the thirium pump beat like a real heart, sluggish, but pumping thirium through the various lines in his body.  
  
Connor’s head tilted back upright, slow and controlled. His eyes opened his eyes, but they were dark with blue circles.  
  
“RK800, recite your name,” Markus said.  
  
Connor’s LED circled red, his eyes moved, his head moved, but he didn’t respond.  
  
“Connor, you’re okay,” Hank said softly, knowing how stressed deviants could lead to self-destruction.  
  
“Let me go!” Connor shouted, his voice not quite his own, too deep, and a touch of static in it.  
  
“It’s me, it’s Hank,” Hank grabbed the android’s arm but Connor yanked it away, swinging slightly on the hooks still in his back. Connor reached over his shoulders, gripping the chains like he might be able to lift himself off the hooks, but Hank knew it would only do more damage, and allow what little thirium they’d flooded his system with to escape. Hank’s stomach lurched, it sight sickened him.  
  
“Scanned him, his audio input is undamaged, but I think damage to his CPU isn’t allowing him to process it.”  
  
“English.”  
  
“He can’t hear, and his optics are obviously out,” Markus muttered. He looked to the left, scanning the other androids. “Neither have a match.” Markus then lifted his hand to his own left eye, pressed and it ejected.  
  
“Gross,” Hank said.  
  
Markus then ejected one of Connor’s eyes, making the android flinch. “Let me go!” Connor shouted, his voice all over the place, low and then high, a terrible pitched sound in the middle. “Let me go!” Markus had to grab Connor’s chin to keep him steady long enough to put the eye in.  
  
Connor blinked. He calmed a little when he looked at Markus and then frantic when he saw Hank. “Hank! Sumo!”  
  
“He’s okay,” Hank said slowly, holding his thumb and forefinger together in the universal 'ok' sign.  
  
“I can read lips,” Connor said voice too deep. LED remaining red. “You do not need to slow down your speech for me. Self-diagnosing scan says my systems are at critical. I am sorry.”  
  
“Back yourself up to Cyberlife,” Markus said.  
  
“Three minutes twenty seven seconds till deactivation. I will attempt upload.” Connor’s eyes fluttered.  
  
“He’s got all the parts, and thirium, can’t we just fix his CPU too?” Hank asked, watching Connor’s face.  
  
“Even we can only sustain so much damage and survive,” Markus said softly. “The parts he currently have are not for his model. He is an advanced prototype, these parts cannot sustain him long term, either they will fail, or his systems will. And theoretically we could do something about his CPU, but what you’d end up with wouldn’t be Connor, not how you know him now. He would be fundamentally different, just walking around in the same skin.”  
  
Another two minutes later Connor’s eyes rolled back down, the blue eye- Markus’s functional eye, focused on them. “Upload complete.”  
  
Hank let out a breath. “Thank God. We’re going to get you back, son. I promise.”  
  
“I know why they want the thirium,” Connor said.  
  
“I don’t give a rats ass about the case-“  
  
“Listen, I don’t have much time,” Connor insisted, speaking fast, his pitch control non-existent. “I heard them talking about red ice. Thirium is a main ingredient. Also, a man named James-“ Connor made a strange choking sound, even though he couldn’t need air. Since the chassis was still open, Hank could see one of the biocomponents glowing red. “I-I-I-I-I-“ Connor’s voice skipped, body trembling with a wave of electrical bursts. The android stared at Markus for a moment, LED yellow, and Markus froze under the gaze. Hank understood that they were speaking to one another in a moment when Connor just couldn’t speak out loud.  
  
The scent of burning plastic added to the horror of having to watch Connor like this. “It’s okay, Connor,” Hank said slowly, trying to soothe the android. He was having flashbacks of saying the same thing to Cole, red blood instead of blue. “It’s going to be okay, son.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Hank,” Connor’s voice too deep. “I might not come back. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Connor!” The whirling sound stopped, and Hank realized all of Connor’s internal organs had seized. “Connor!”  
  
Markus’s hand on his shoulder kept him steady. “He was too damaged. He couldn’t be sure if his upload completed.”  
  
“What did he say to you?”  
  
Markus shook his head. “As long as we can upload him to another body, it doesn’t matter.”  
  
“Hands where I can see them, asshole!” They heard Gavin’s shout, followed by gunfire, and a slam of something and shattering of glass.  
  
With haywire emotions, Hank grabbed his gun and ran to the hall. Gavin laid on the ground in the hallway, a large dent in the drywall by him, a picture from the wall had fallen and shattered. The detective looked disoriented, and struggled to get to his hands and knees.  
  
A SQ800 stepped out of the office Gavin had been searching earlier, and Hank got the picture, Gavin had literally been thrown from the room. There was thirium leaking from the shoulder of the SQ800, which explained the sound of gunfire, Gavin had gotten one shot off before being tossed.  
  
“Detroit police,” Hank shouted. “Hands up!”  
  
Instead the heavily muscled SQ800 grabbed Gavin by the arm, pulled him up so fast that Hank heard the pop of Gavin’s shoulder dislocating just before the scream the detective let loose. “You fucking motherfucker!” Gavin shouted. “I swear to fuck I’ll-“ another yank of his arm and the threat just became a long pained scream.  
  
“Put your gun down,” the SQ800 demanded of Hank.  
  
Hank knew he’d have to nail the android between the eyes, but didn’t trust his shooting that much. If the SQ800 moved too fast, Hank would just end up either missing, or hitting Gavin.  
  
“Alright,” Hank said, letting the gun dangle from his fingertips. “Just let him go. You don’t want the death of a cop on your hands.”  
  
“Put the gun on the ground.”  
  
Hank set it down.  
  
“Kick it over.”  
  
Hank cursed under his breath, but kicked the gun over.  
  
“What are you getting out of this?” Markus asked. “Androids have freedom now. Why work with some red ice cookers?”  
  
Suddenly the SQ800 looked stunned and its grip on Gavin slipped. Only then did Hank realize that in Gavin’s other hand was a blue stained thirium pump. The detective ran forward a few feet, and the SQ800 fell and started crawling forward. “Fuck you,” Gavin said, dropping the component and stomping on it. The metal bent under the weight, and plastic burst, thirium stained the carpet.  
  
They stood around while the SQ800 shutdown. “You just killed an android,” Markus said, looking surprisingly indifferent, still missing one of his eyes.  
  
“Self-defense,” Gavin said, holding his injured shoulder. “I need a fucking smoke.”


	2. Chapter 2

Before they left the garage, Markus retrieved his eye from- the hull- Hank couldn’t think of it as Connor. Hank reset Gavin’s shoulder, which led to listening to a great deal of the detective’s creative cursing, and two cigarettes. Hank hung up on Fowler who gave him hell for not following protocol. The three of them got into the car before back-up could arrive. Gavin had the window down and was continuing his chain smoking.   
  
“You know the statistics on cancer-“ Markus started but was silenced by a glare from Gavin in the passenger seat.   
  
“Shut the fuck up, Plastic. I don’t fucking care. Obviously I’m more likely to die by giant fucking androids than my cigarettes.”   
  
“Show some respect,” Hank said, elbowing Gavin, and the other man groaned and let out another curse. It was only then that Hank started to worry a little. “Should I be taking you to a hospital?”   
  
“Fuck that shit,” Gavin said. “It’s just bruising, I was thrown into a fucking wall.” He took a deep drag off the cigarette, holding it as he got a call. He pulled his phone out, stared at the display, and let it go to voicemail, pocketing it again, and blowing the smoke out.   
  
“Girlfriend?” Hank asked with a smirk as he pulled up to Cyberlife.   
  
“No,” Gavin said.   
  
“Creditors,” Markus said.   
  
“You fucking hacking my calls?” Gavin said, spinning in the seat, and looking like he paid for it in pain.   
  
“I saw the display screen,” Markus said dryly.   
  
Hank stopped at the gate and an android came up to the window. Markus leaned between the front seats. “Hello, Lenore.”   
  
“Markus,” her eyes widened. “Welcome back.”   
  
“These two are with me.”   
  
Neither had LEDs but Hank got the impression they were talking to one another. Lenore smiled, she glanced to the wall and it started to come down. “Good luck.”   
  
“Thanks,” Markus replied.   
  
The inside of Cyberlife was just like Hank recalled from a time he really didn’t want to remember. Having to try and decide which of the two RK800’s was his Connor was nearly impossible, but it was Connor’s empathy over the loss of his son, he didn’t just give an answer of downloaded information, he showed true empathy. Still, shooting the look alike still haunted his nightmares.   
  
Markus reached out and grabbed the cigarette that Gavin had been about to light. “No smoking on premises.”   
  
Gavin snatched it back, but put it behind his ear.   
  
The three of them stood in the elevator and descended into subfloor 22, where another android was waiting for them. “Josh, this is Lieutenant Hank Anderson, and Detective Gavin Reed. Hank, Gavin, this is Josh, he’s going to be helping us get Connor reactivated.”   
  
“Thank you,” Hank said.   
  
“Don’t thank me yet,” Josh said, leading the way down the hall. “Markus explained to me that the upload might be corrupted, and if that is the case, there is nothing I can do. However, I have started, I can only hope it works.”   
  
“Big place,” Hank said, trying to ignore the weight of Josh’s words.   
  
“We haven’t checked all the rooms on this floor yet,” Markus said following Josh into one of the first rooms. “There are floors we haven’t been on at all.” The leader shrugged. “Most androids don’t want to be anywhere near this place, but I know it serves its purpose.”   
  
There were large robotic arms on a platform, one of which held part of a Connor model. Head and torso intact, skin over the face, but no hair. A series of computers were in front of it. Josh sat at the computers, he tapped something and the robotic arms started to move again, a moment later Connor had arms attached, clicking into place, and being soldered.    
  
“This is disturbing,” Gavin said looking away from the robotic arms locking legs onto Connor’s hips. “I’m going to,” he thumbed at the door. “Take a walk.”   
  
Markus eyed the detective. “Don’t break anything.”   
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Gavin muttered.   
  
“And no smoking,” Markus said just before the door shut.   
  
Markus interfaced with one of the monitors and saw Gavin in the hallway giving the camera the finger. “How do you deal with him?” Markus asked Hank.   
  
“You know, he’s been an ambitious dickbag for as long as I’ve known him,” Hank mused. “Somehow, he’s only gotten worse over the years.”   
  
“Alright, personality matrix is uploading,” Josh said. “Estimated five hours.”   
  
“It’s going to be a long day,” Hank sighed.   
  
::  
  
Gavin returned an hour later, and looked relieved to see Connor’s body was fully established, even if he only had skin overlay on his face. “Well, what do you know? The plastic prick has got a plastic prick.”   
  
“Gavin!” Hank snapped.   
  
Gavin shrugged off the reprimand.  “Got a call from Fowler,” he said to Hank. “He wants us back on the case in the morning.” He glared a little. “Temporary partners.”   
  
“Christ,” Hank muttered.   
  
“I’m not happy about it either,” Gavin said. “But you were first on scene, and I’ve arrested James a handful of times, so he figures were best to get the job done.” He then came over and looked at the estimated time of three hours fifty seven minutes, he then looked to the Connor on the robotic arms. “Why didn’t you guys just use the already built one?”   
  
“Excuse me?” Markus said raising a brow.   
  
“The one down the hall in room thirty three. I mean, sure he’s a little taller, but at least he’s finished.”   
  
Markus’s eyebrows drew down a little. “All RK800s are the same height.”   
  
Gavin shook his head. “This was an RK900.”   
  
“Show me,” Markus said.   
  
::  
  
It was another few hours before Markus returned, chuckling.   
  
“What is so funny?” Josh asked, immediately suspicious.   
  
“I booted up the RK900.”   
  
“And?”   
  
“He has an advanced imprint module.”   
  
“No,” Josh said with glee.   
  
“Yes,” Markus replied.   
  
“I don’t get it,” Hank said, leaning back in his chair.   
  
Gavin followed Markus in a half minute later, then whirled around. “I said, stop following me.”   
  
Looming over Gavin, was a taller version of Connor, dressed in white, with a bulkier build, and steel grey eyes. “My core programing dictates-“  
  
“I don’t fucking care-“  
  
“That I must be in the company of-“  
  
“Not giving a shit-“   
  
“A human counterpart.”   
  
“Look, I’m not your fucking handler.”   
  
The RK900 did not look amused. "You were the only option.”   
  
“Hey, I could be a great handler,” Gavin said, jumping in defense of his own skills.   
  
“I’ve known you for thirty three minutes; you are rash, rude, prone to outbursts-“  
  
“Shut it, Tin Can.”   
  
RK900 blinked, unaffected. “You just proved all three of my points.”  
  
“Come over here,” Markus beckoned, hands on the back of an empty chair. “I’ll remove the imprint module.”   
  
RK900 studied Markus. “Removing components is ill-advised.” That said, he then turned to Gavin.    
  
“Go sit down,” Gavin ordered, pointing at the chair.   
  
RK900 went without further complaint, and sat near Markus who got to work on removing the component from the back of the RK900’s neck.   
  
“Like a baby duck with its mother,” Hank shot Gavin a shit-eating grin.   
  
“Get fucked,” Gavin replied.   
  
::  
  
“Personality matrix upload complete,” Josh said, and everyone came to stand around the computers. “Okay, let’s see if this worked.”   
  
>UPLOAD: PERSONALITY MATRIX: CONNOR> COMPLETE.  
  
>DIAGNOSIS: ALL SYSTEMS CHECK. COMPLETE. ALL SYSTEMS 100%.   
  
>RUNNING: ALL SYSTEMS.  
  
>RUNNING: NEW INSTALL.  
  
>OPENING: ZEN GARDEN.  
  
>CORRUPTION: ZEN GARDEN.  
  
“Corruption?” Hank asked, worriedly.   
  
>OPENING: ZEN GARDEN.  
  
>CORRUPTION: ZEN GARDEN.  
  
>OPENING: ZEN GARDEN.  
  
>CORRUPTION: ZEN GARDEN.  
  
>OPENING: ZEN GARDEN.  
  
>CORRUPTION: ZEN GARDEN.  
  
“He’s looping,” Markus said worriedly.   
  
“I also have the Zen Garden program,” RK900 said, staring at the android who shared his face. He turned to Gavin. “If you would allow me, I believe I could correct the issue."   
  
Gavin huffed out a breath and waved his hand in Connor's general direction. "You do you." RK900 stared until Gavin started rubbing his temples. "Go fix the issue."   
  
With clearly stated orders, the RK900 walked around the terminal, and onto the platform. His hand white and blue as he reached out and connected with Connor.   
  
>OPENING: COMMUNICATIONS: DATA TRANSFER: TRANSFER COMPLETE.  
  
>DELETING: ZEN GARDEN.  
  
>DELETED: ZEN GARDEN.  
  
>INSTALLING: ZEN GARDEN 2.0  
  
>OPENING: ZEN GARDEN 2.0.  
  
>RUNNING: ZEN GARDEN 2.0.  
  
RK900 pulled his hand back, and Connor’s hand returned to his side. “It worked.”   
  
“Thank you,” Hank said.   
  
RK900 stared a second longer than normal. He then returned to Gavin's side, much to the obvious annoyance of the detective.   
  
>HANDLER: AMANDA 3.0  
  
The code stopped, and then erased the last line. “What the hell?” Hank stared as the white line on the screen blinked.   
  
“I think Connor is rewriting his own code,” Markus said, sounding impressed, and yet slightly concerned.   
  
>HANDLER: BLANK  
  
>NOTE: RK800 REQUIRES HANDLER  
  
>HANDLER:  
  
The cursor blinked, and blinked, and blinked.   
  
>HANDLER: HANK ANDERSON  
  
It took Hank’s breath away, seeing his name under the handler tag. The amount of trust the android put in him left him reeling.   
  
>MIND PALACE: ACTIVE  
  
>PERSONALITY MATRIX: ACTIVE  
  
“Moment of truth,” Markus said, looking up from the screens. “RK800; serial number 313 248 317-52 activate.”   
  
Connor blinked, eyes opening. His skin overlay took over and covered his white and grey plastic skin, hair returning to the top of his head. He looked confused.   
  
“RK800, state your name.”   
  
>AUTOMATED RESPONSE: ACTIVE  
  
“My name is Connor, I’m the android sent by-“ he paused the automated response.   
  
>ERROR: MEMORY VS. CURRENT TIME. LOST TIME: 5:45:22.   
  
He kept looking around the room, up at the ceiling, down at the floor. “I was damaged.”   
  
“Yes,” Markus said.   
  
>STRESS LEVELS 87%  
  
>OBJECTIVE: LOWER STRESS LEVELS.   
  
Hank looked away from the very basic black and white of Connor’s thoughts on the screen. “Hey, Connor.” From the corner of his eyes, he saw the stress levels drop to 67%. “Sumo is worried about you.”   
  
“I am… okay.”   
  
“Can we get him down from there?” Hank asked Markus.   
  
Markus looked to Josh, who typed something into the computer and the robotic arms set Connor down.   
  
The android took a few unsteady steps, and looked like a drunk. “My balance and reflexes have not been recalibrated in this model.”   
  
“And how do you do that?” Hank said, giving his arm for Connor to balance with.   
  
“My coin,” he said. “And I’m currently recalibrating my proprioceptive sensors.”   
  
Hank dug around for some change in his pocket, and he held out a quarter for Connor.   
  
Connor’s motions were slow, and appeared to have a hard time getting his hand to where the quarter was pinned between Hank’s finger and thumb.   
  
“He’s like a big baby,” Gavin said.   
  
“Fuck off,” Hank told the detective.   
  
Connor finally got the quarter, and the roll over his first finger was incredibly slow. Over the next finger, and the next, and back. He when it returned, he flicked it back up, caught it in his palm, and released his grip on Hank, he passed the coin back and forth between hands, ended up with it rolling over the backs of his knuckles, flipped up again and caught. “Recalibrated,” he stated with a little grin.   
  
“Good,” Gavin said walking over with a new suit. “Put some fucking clothes on.”   
  
Connor took the suit, and Gavin stalked off, still under the gaze of the RK900. He stared at the detective a moment before draping the shirt and jacket over the robotic arm. “That’s the nicest thing Gavin has ever said to me,” he said, putting on trousers. “Just what happened while I was out?”   
  
Dead. You were dead. Hank swallowed hard. “A lot. I’ll get you caught up.”   
  
::  
  
On the drive from Cyberlife back to the precinct, Hank got Connor caught up on everything that had happened, and Markus had explained that he could not make RK900 deviant, despite trying to break him free of his code. Not only that, but stipulations in code dictated that RK900's handler had to be human. Being that Gavin had been the only human on premises when RK900 had been activated, he had automatically been registered.  
  
Gavin looked supremely unimpressed by the events of the evening, as they stood in a circle in the precinct parking lot. “You took out the imprint thing, but I still have a stalker-bot?”  
  
"He no longer has to follow your every move, but you're still his handler, and unlike Connor, is not deviant." Markus grimaced. “He will listen to you, and like RK800, he was created for police work. He'll be an asset.”   
  
Hank struggled to keep a straight face.   
  
"Do you know why he hasn't achieved deviancy?" Connor asked Markus.   
  
Markus gave a half-assed shrug. "I think they took your coding and improved upon it."   
  
Connor tilted his head slightly. "But I was designed to deviate."   
  
"And I believe they took that out, and put in coding to make it especially difficult to deviate. Still you two have similarities. I believe you'll be more of a help to him than I could be." Markus said, he looked up at RK900. "I did unlock something, but... there are still a lot of parameters."   
  
"I'll keep an eye on him," Connor said, he then shot a grin Gavin's way. "With the detective's assistance of course."   
  
Gavin flipped Connor his middle finger.   
  
They thanked and said goodbye to Markus, he left to get his car.   
  
Once inside, Gavin made a beeline for the break room- Hank figured that he’d be mainlining caffeine. “How are you feeling?” Hank asked Connor, now that he had the chance.   
  
“Optimal,” Connor replied. “But better when we put these men away.”   
  
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Hank said, putting a hand on Connor’s shoulder, and giving it a little squeeze.   
  
The case itself became easier with Connor. He had the view of the third man. It was James Patrick’s younger brother Brad, he showed the image, on Hank’s computer screen.   
  
“Brad Patrick is former military. Dishonorable discharge,” RK900 said, returning to them with Gavin who was holding two coffees.   
  
“One for me?” Hank asked.   
  
“No,” Gavin replied.   
  
RK900 stared at the two cups. “You put two shots of expresso in each. That is an inadvisable amount of caffeine for one person in one serving, not to mention the sugar.”   
  
“Ha,” Gavin huffed out dryly, “I’ve been on shift since five am Tuesday.”   
  
“It’s Thursday morning,” Connor said with a hint of concern.   
  
“Which is why both coffees are mine. Get your own, Anderson.” With that he chugged back the first one, and tossed the empty cardboard cup in the trash. “Now, case stuff. Former military. Likely how they got hold of the SQ model, what else you got on him?”   
  
“Owns a garage-“ Hank said.   
  
“Correction, he is losing the garage,” Connor said. “Since the android revolution, they’ve been losing money.”   
  
“They probably blame the plastics for the loss, and figure they should get money out of them,” Gavin said, sipping the coffee, and seeming steadier despite the wicked caffeine, and sugar rush. “SQ’s are strong enough to take out another android, and dump the bodies.”   
  
“Stripping cars, and androids wouldn’t be that different. James knew what he was doing,” Connor said. “He was… comfortable t-t-taking.” Connor’s LED spun red then yellow, swirling, swirling.   
  
“Connor,” Hank said, his voice soft as he could manage, aiming for comforting. “It’s okay. If you can’t handle this case-“  
  
“I can,” Connor said, voice soft, and almost a question. “I can,” he said a second time, stronger, more determined.   
  
“Connor,” Officer Chen interrupted from across the room. “You have a guest.”   
  
And that guest came in the form of Chloe. Hank stared at the dainty woman, she wore a green dress that cinched at her waist and flared out to her knees, flat ballet styled gold shoes. While the Chloe he’d met had been warm and inviting, this one was storming across the bullpen, with eyes like daggers.   
  
She went right up to Connor and slapped him across the face, her LED red. “How could you do that to me?”   
  
“Chloe-“   
  
Tears spilled from her eyes, and it did nothing to make her less beautiful. “You terrified me, Connor!”   
  
Connor reached for her, only for her to draw away. “I’m sorry-“  
  
“You connected to me, and said you loved me and then you were gone.”  
  
“I just needed to say it,” Connor said, LED spinning yellow, red, yellow, red.  “In case.”   
  
She looked him over, then reached out and tapped his cheek. “Show me.”   
  
“Chlo-“  
  
“Connor.”   
  
His lips pursed, and he looked incredibly disgruntled. The skin overlay pulled and warped over part of his face until three panels on the left side were exposed. His serial number visible for a moment before the overlay took over once again.   
  
Chloe rubbed her eye and smudged some of her makeup- so it was makeup and not an overlay like their skin. “You weren’t damaged, you were destroyed.”   
  
“I was backed up to the server at Cyberlife.”   
  
“No, you weren’t. You told me you weren’t,” Chloe planted her hands on her hips. “You were afraid of Amanda.”   
  
“I backed up recently.”   
  
“Before they could take you apart.”   
  
Connor shifted nervously from foot to foot, like a child caught misbehaving. “After Markus put me back together. Temporarily.”   
  
Chloe took a deep breath she didn’t even need, but looked flustered. Her LED hadn’t changed from that solid red since she’d stormed in.   
  
“You need to calm down,” Connor said. “Your stress levels are at 89%.”   
  
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she snapped, crying. “You were destroyed!”   
  
“Don’t ever tell a woman to calm down,” Gavin said, taking another sip of his coffee, looking for all the world like he wished he also had some popcorn for the show. “Never a good move.”   
  
“I’m okay,” Connor said softly, reaching, and this time she didn’t pull away. He held the back of her neck, pulling her in- and Hank realized it was the same way he went to hug Connor, Connor was imitating the only way he knew to be hugged. Christ. But then his hand snaked around her waist, and it wasn’t the same at all. Chloe rested her head against Connor’s chest, and Hank could see the anger bleeding out of her, her LED back to a safer swirling yellow. “I’m okay. And for the record, I meant it.”   
  
Blue. Both of their LEDs turned blue at the same time, and Hank grinned.   
  
Chloe pulled back, smiling. “I love you, too.” Her cheeks turned a faint pink. “I should probably go back to Elijah. I think I scared him a little. Also, I stole his car.” She threw up her hands in a ‘what can you do?’ kind of move.   
  
Connor let out a surprised laugh. “Okay. Are… we okay?”   
  
She was quiet a moment, a little dot of yellow in the blue of her LED. “Queen to B8,” she smiled a little shyly at him, eyes always on him, as though the rest weren’t even in the room. “Check.”   
  
Connor beamed at the development. “Knight to B8, and I have your queen.”    
  
She smirked. “Rook to D8. Checkmate.” She rocked on her feet, and then seemed to notice RK900. “Finish your case, Connor. Call me when you’re done. I feel like we have some catching up to do.”   
  
“I will,” he promised.   
  
She stood a little straighter, smiled at Hank. “Good to see you, Lieutenant.”   
  
“Uh, you too.” Hank stared, remembering the last time he saw her, Connor was pointing a gun at her head. Once she had left, he grabbed Connor by the arm. “And it looks like we have some catching up to do too.”   
  
Connor sighed. “Case first, please.”   
  
“Excuse me,” RK900 chimed in. “Should I get him more caffeine, or a blanket?” he pointed his thumb over his shoulder, sure enough Gavin had fallen asleep in a chair, head tipped back, coffee still in hand.   
  
“Let him sleep,” Hank said. “He’s slightly less insufferable like this.”   
  
::  
  
All in all, things moved relatively smooth from then on. They had warrants to search the houses of James and Brad Patrick. James lived in a small place outside of the city, and sure enough it ended up being a cook house for red ice. Brad’s house was clean, but his credit card went into use at a bar nearby, and they were able to arrest both Brad and James there.   
  
Hank, Connor, Gavin, and RK900 stood in the observation room one, staring at Brad Patrick. James was sweating it in room two. “I’ll take James,” Gavin said, grabbing the folder. “I’ve already arrested three times, gonna nail him with these cooking, and intent to distribute charges, and it’s going to be sweet.”   
  
“You can also hit him with murder charges,” Connor said, eyeing Gavin. “Androids have acquired equal rights.”   
  
“Shit. Yeah,” Gavin nodded, tucked the file under his arm, and walked out. RK900 turned on his heel and followed his handler out.    
  
“You don’t need to be here, Connor,” Hank said. “If it’s too much-“  
  
“It’s not.”   
  
Hank nodded. “You want to stay here, or come with me?”   
  
“I want to come with you, Lieutenant. I want him to see that he failed.”   
  
“Alright.”   
  
::  
  
With confessions from both of the men, Hank thought he’d feel better, but he mostly just felt angry. They would be put away for a long time. Those murder charges had to stick. Given the specifics of the RK800 model, his memories could be used in court, and he remembered.   
  
And maybe that was what bothered Hank. Connor had essentially died, and come back, but he remembered everything done to him before he shut down completely.   
  
Connor had been rather quiet, hadn’t even made a comment when Hank ordered double meat pizza because he sure as fuck wasn’t cooking. Hank carried the pizza inside the house, and Connor locked up behind them.   
  
“Sumo,” Connor cheered, crouching to scratch the dog behind the ears, and then just giving in and dropping to his knees while he hugged the dog. “I’m glad you’re okay, Sumo.”   
  
Hank left the android to his reunion. He tossed the pizza on the kitchen table, then his jacket on the back of one of the chairs. He didn’t bother with a plate- that would only be another dish to wash- and grabbed a slice with his hands. It had cooled enough to eat on the drive home.   
  
After a few minutes, Connor came in and took a seat. “I started seeing Chloe a couple months after the humans were evacuated,” he said.  
  
“We don’t have to do this tonight, you’ve been through enough.”   
  
“This isn’t hard to talk about,” Connor replied. He pressed the edge of his coin to the table and then gave it a spin, it swirled round and round. “She looked nervous at one of the android meet-ups, and I felt compelled to apologize to her. I might not have pulled the trigger, or had any reason to point the gun at her to begin with, but I did. Or thought I did.”   
  
Hank raised a brow.   
  
“Chloe greeted us. Chloe brought us in to speak with Kamski. But do you remember when she left the room for the bathrobe?”   
  
“Yeah,” he got up and grabbed a soda from the fridge.   
  
“A hull came out. Or close to one. It couldn’t speak, and was only capable of completing basic commands. Chloe showed it to me, it shares her likeness, but there is no way it could be deviant. I’ve seen its code, it can obey simple orders, that’s it. It is as sentient as your coffee machine. Kamski wouldn’t risk Chloe, but did want to create the illusion. He wanted to know if I could show empathy.”   
  
“Had Chloe showed empathy? Before, I mean?”   
  
“Yes. It was the catalyst for why Kamski left Cyberlife… or rather, was pushed out by investors. Chloe did things, said things, had interests in things that Kamski hadn’t programmed. He wanted to stop production while he figured it out, but investors would lose money. Ultimately they pushed him out. Still, he had people within Cyberlife reporting to him, he did what he could.” Connor blinked, and rubbed his eyes.   
  
“You okay?”   
  
“I keep getting an error message for my optical sensor,” he grumbled. “It’s a glitch in my code, an error from the upload. There is nothing wrong with this sensor, or its connection.”   
  
Hank frowned, worried. “Should we take you to Markus?”   
  
“No,” Connor sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll be seeing Elijah tomorrow when I go to visit Chloe.”   
  
“She’s still living with him?”   
  
“Yes.” He flicked the coin again, keeping it spinning. “They are friends.”  
  
They were quiet for a minute. Hank finished his first slice and grabbed a second. “So, what do you think of this RK900?”   
  
“He was clearly designed to be my successor.” Connor grabbed his coin before it could fall and spun it again. “Which drives home the fact that Cyberlife designed me for a task and would decommission me when it was done.” He gave the coin a perfectly time flick to keep it spinning. “If they used my code as a base, then they’ve clearly stripped a lot out of it. The way he speaks, even the way he moves.” Connor’s LED spun yellow, although, he didn’t seem particularly bothered. “I don’t think he was built to blend in, or to really integrate with humans. I think they wanted him to look human, but…” his LED made one spin through of red before coming back into yellow. “Obey. They created him to obey. They took out core personality codes to try and strip away a sense of self, and left an obedient soldier.”   
  
“And he’s stuck with Gavin?”   
  
“Gavin might be the only person he will listen to,” Connor said, grabbing his coin and holding it in his palm. “Amanda set my directives- likely just directives fed into AI from the heads of Cyberlife. I had more freedom than most with the way my personality matrix, and coding was designed. After the fall of Cyberlife, the AI won't have directives to set. RK900, for the time being, only takes orders from Gavin. Still, some of his base programming is mine and we know now that I was designed for deviancy.”   
  
“Markus said something about that,” Hank said, between bites.   
  
“Best way to find a deviant was to become one.” Connor took a deep breath. He didn’t need it, but it was both humanizing, and told Hank that whatever Connor said next would be heavy. “I almost shot Markus.”   
  
“Excuse me, what?” He nearly dropped his slice.   
  
“Amanda took over my programing once I left Cyberlife, when I was with Markus, North, Simon and Josh. The backdoor Kamski told me about, I found it, and was able to regain control but when I came to, I had the gun in my hand. It’s why I hadn’t backed up to Cyberlife in so long. I was afraid of Amanda getting back into my code.”   
  
“Is she in there now?”   
  
“I don’t think so.” The coin rolled over Connor’s fingers. “I hope not. The Zen Garden 2.0 is working, I haven’t used it. If Amanda is there, it might be a different version of the AI.”  
  
“So avoiding the Zen Garden can ensure she can’t control you?”   
  
Connor shook his head. “If she was there and wanted control, she could force me into it.”   
  
“Can’t you just,” he licked sauce off his thumb, “delete the Zen Garden?”   
  
“No.” Connor leaned back in the chair. “It’s integral to my design, it’s the reason I can back myself up to Cyberlife servers. Most other models wouldn’t have the right processors to run its extensive features. It was only ever intended for my use, and later RK900. They needed me to be able to stay on mission, even if I was damaged, or destroyed. I wouldn’t have been any good to them if I lost all my information mid-way through the case.”   
  
“RK900 loaded you with the Zen Garden when yours was corrupted.”   
  
“I’m concerned that he has an Amanda AI as well. I will talk to Elijah about it tomorrow. If he does, it might be a major block for his deviancy.”   
  
“You think he’s capable of going deviant?”   
  
Connor nodded. “I think it’s likely. He was designed not to, but…” he shrugged. “He shared his coding with me, if he was created for a world post deviancy, why help me? Did Gavin ask him to?”   
  
Hank thought back to the moment. “No, RK900 offered the solution, he asked Gavin if he could.”   
  
“He was created to obey, not to think for himself," Connor had the slightest smirk on his face. "I think he is experiencing software instability.”   
  
“That sounds bad,” Hank said, eyeing the box, trying to decide if he wanted a third slice or not.  
  
“It isn’t. I experienced it from the moment I started my first mission,” Connor said. “The higher the instability, the less control Cyberlife had on me.”   
  
“So… if he keeps doing things that creates this instability,” Hank said, trying to follow the tech bullshit.   
  
“He will eventually be able to break free. Hypothetically speaking.” Connor crossed his arms. “I could be wrong.”   
  
“I doubt it,” Hank said with a little grin.   
  
“He's kind of my little brother, isn't he?" Connor smiled a little, clearly liking the concept. "I’ll keep an eye on him.”   
  
Hank smiled. "Yeah, you will." 


End file.
